Major Wyclyff's Campaign (A Lady's Lessons, Book 2) by Jade Lee Read Free Book Online

cold." Her aunt slanted her a look. "And believe me, Sophia, they do grow short and cold in Staffordshire."
    Sophia sighed and pulled her knees up to her chin. "You are deliberately misunderstanding me."
    "Sophia, darling, I understand you quite well." Her aunt leaned forward and gathered up her niece's fingers, her cherubic face drawn and sad. "You are young still. You cannot imagine life will ever grow tedious or empty."
    Sophia lifted her gaze to her aunt's face, trying to sound serene but only succeeding in seeming cold. "On the contrary, I know quite well about tedium and emptiness. It is called London and five years of endless routs, card parties, and wide smiles that cover souls filled with malice." Sophia clutched her aunt's plump hand. "Surely you know what I mean. You must see why I cannot settle for the polite slavery the major offers."
    "Slavery!" her aunt exclaimed. "Whoever put such notions into your head?"
    Sophia lifted a single eyebrow in a skeptical expression she had perfected over the last five years. "You did, Aunt. Years ago when I asked you why you never married."
    Agatha's gaze widened, then slid away, dropping to her fingers, which toyed with the tail of a purple ribbon. She did not speak for a long time, her thoughts obviously turned inward, or perhaps into the long-ago past.
    "Yes, Sophia," she finally whispered. "I suppose I did think that years ago—about a young doctor who ended up marrying a minister's daughter instead of me. But now I am older. I know there is something worse than London." Her eyes focused, bringing with it that rare twinkle Sophia so loved. "It is called Staffordshire."
    "Aunt Agatha—"
    "Whatever has happened to you, Sophia?" her aunt cried. "You were lively and free and unrestrained once, following your heart wherever it willed."
    Sophia leaned forward eagerly. "But that is exactly how I am now," she pressed. "Now that I am free. There is no one to order me about!"
    Her aunt shook her head, the sadness clear on her worn face. "No. Now you are cautious, nervous about everything and everyone. I suppose I can understand your reticence in London. There is so much to fear with the ton . But even here, you do not trust yourself. You have put your faith in silly rituals and childish nonsense about freedom."
    "That is not true!" Sophia's response was loud and vehement, but inside she cringed, not wanting to think too deeply about her aunt's words. Instead, she shook her head, taking refuge in the phrase that was now her watchword. "I am free now. I will never listen to anyone but myself ever again."
    Her aunt frowned. "You are hiding. I think you have been doing so for a very long time. Probably all the time you were in London." She reached forward in a quick motion, taking Sophia's hand in an earnest grasp. "Is there someone else, Sophia? Someone who has stolen your heart?"
    "Of course not," she responded, her voice strong and firm. Who else would there be? She could never trust a member of the ton to prefer her to the enticements of town. With her decision to remain here in Staffordshire, she would be abandoned within hours of her own wedding.
    "You had so many suitors, your mother and I were sure you would be wed in a fortnight. But not a one claimed you."
    Sophia grimaced, remembering each and every one of her so-called suitors. "Not a one truly wanted me. I was simply a passing fancy for flighty boys."
    "Perhaps," commented Agatha, her thoughtful gaze heavy on her niece. "But I think you are afraid."
    "I fear nothing!" Sophia exclaimed. "Except men who would bind me to their name, then run off to do whatever they wish, leaving me to fret and worry alone."
    "Your Major Wyclyff does not seem so inconstant. Indeed, you once told me that was why you so liked military men. They dedicate their lives to a sense of duty and responsibility."
    Sophia glanced away, her eyes tearing despite her determination not to cry. "Military men die, Aunt Agatha," she whispered. "And the end is just